I Think That I Would Die
by Mo Starkey
Summary: The year was 1964, and The Beatles were at their prime. But, when they meet two girls with contradicting personalities, will it change the course of their career? Not an ATU fic, obviously.
1. Prologue

**I Think I Would Die - Prologue**

**January 16, 1965**

It was a usual dreary night in the uptown ares of the UK. The rain, which started off the night as a light drizzle, had formed into a nasty thunderstorm.

Despite the weather, the streets were unusually populated with late night club goers. Word had got around that 2 of The Beatles, Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr, would be attending one of the clubs. And once Lucy Hastings found out about this, there was no stopping her.

"Oh, come on, Eleanor. It'll be fun," Lucy said to her best friend of seven years, Eleanor Rigby. Eleanor gave Lucy an ice-cold look, and crossed her arms. "You know I don't like clubs. Too many drunkards and not enough sluts to pass around."

Eleanor's looks were modest. She was very tall for a girl, reaching to about 5'9". Her hair, which was an unusual blue-black color, reached to just her shoulders, and was a huge mass of curls. Her eyes were a shade of icy blue, and were often described as her best feature. Her personality, just like her looks, were modest yet endearing. She was a very strong willed girl, and she wasn't afraid to speak her mind. She was often very blunt, which at times made her appear rude, but her intentions were (almost always) good.

Lucy, on the other hand, was the complete opposite of Eleanor, in looks and personality. She was petite and tiny, her height being a good 5'2". Her hair was a soft blonde, the color of honey. It was also long and straight, reaching to at least her elbows. Her eyes were round hazel orbs, and were often accented with Twiggy-styled makeup.

All though her style seems very prim and put-together, her personality was all over the place. She was a definite party girl, which Eleanor believed to be caused by years of social restriction by her parents. But just like Eleanor, her intentions were always good.

Lucy sighed. At this point, she'd give anything just for Eleanor to go with her. "Please just consider going? Just for an hour or so? I promise you'll have the absolute time of your life," Lucy begged, her Scottish getting thicker with every desperate plea.

Eleanor considered it for a moment. "Ugh, fine. But I'm not going to stay for long." Lucy jumped up and down in excitement, for this was going to be one exciting night for the both of them.

* * *

><p>It was almost 11 p.m. before Eleanor and Lucy arrived at Club Wha? Lucy was, like always, over dressed for the occasion. She wore a short red dress that puffed out and made her look like a pudgy red marshmallow. Her hair was done up in a towering beehive, and was decorated with a single red rose. Her make-up was in it's usually Twiggy style, and it seemed like the only one of her features to be in its usual style.<p>

Eleanor was dressed as simple as ever. Wearing a short blue dress and with her hair loose and curly, she had the same simple beauty she always did.

Club Wah? was definitely lively tonight. Music boomed throughout the room. What seemed like the whole town was crowed into the one club area. People danced, and they drank, and they sung, and they just had a good time. But not a Beatle was in sight.

Lucy grabbed Eleanor's hand, and attempted to drag her out to the dance floor, but was to no avail. Eleanor snatched back her hand, and yelled over the music, "I'm going to the bar so I can get drunk. Go dance with yourself or whatever." Lucy shrugged and disappeared into the mass of people.

Eleanor walked over to the bar and found herself a seat at the farthest left, next to a shady looking man with a large nose.

The bartender leaned toward her. "Whaddaya want?" he asked, his voice husky and deep. "Vodka straight up," she replied. She had all the intents to get drunk tonight, and she wasn't going to take that lightly.

Once her drink was in her hand, she chugged it down. After all her years of skillfully teaching herself to tolerate the sting of alcohol, vodka was more like water. She slammed her glass down and ordered another drink.

The shady looking man turned to her, taking off his glasses, which revealed a set of deep blue eyes. He smiled at her. "How do you tolerate vodka like that?"

"Years of practice," she replied, finishing off her drink.

"How about we do a little drinking game?" the man suggested. "It's called 'Beat the Barman'." Eleanor agreed to it, being familiar with the game herself. It was quite simple to play. A player would order a shot, and pay with too much money. Once the bartender went to get change, the player would chug the shot. After the bartender returned with the change, the player would go back to the first step of paying too much for a shot.

The man was first to go. He ordered two vodkas, and payed with a fiver. The bartender disappeared to get the change, and Eleanor and the man downed the shots. The bartender returned, and the man ordered two more shots with a fiver. The man sighed, and went to get more change. Eleanor burst out laughing, with tears in her eyes. She was obviously drunk.

The game went on for two more turns, before the bartender became angry. "What the hell do you think you're doing? I know by now ya have enough to pay exact change, so why ya being so difficult? I want you and ya girl to get out of my bar. Now."

The man grabbed Eleanor's hand and led her out of the bar. They both laughed hysterically with tears running down both their cheeks.

Trying to call a cab, Eleanor stumbled and fell into the man's arms. She burst out laughing. "S-sorry," she stuttered, not even bothering to try and pick herself up. The man, who was considerably less drunk, held onto her tight, calling a cab.

The man carried Eleanor into his hotel room, and laid her on the bed, flopping down next to her. Eleanor giggled again, rolling on top of the man. She began caressing his neck, kissing it and snuggling against it. He ran his hands up her dress, and in a second they were both naked.

* * *

><p>Paul McCartney managed to notice her all the way across the room. And he was mesmerized.<p>

She was a small girl with a beehive up-do. She reminded him greatly of Twiggy, all though she had short hair. And her ability to party was admirable.

Paul grabbed two drinks, and waltzed his way over to the girl, tapping her on the shoulder. "Drink, my dear?" She gasped as she turned to see who the man was. "P-Paul Mc-McCartney?" she stuttered, with her eyes as wide as saucers. He flashed her a dazzling smile and handed her the drink.

"H-how about-t we go... sit at the b-bar?" she managed, pointing to two empty seats. He agreed, grabbing her hand and walking over to the seats.

"So, what's your name, dear?" Paul asked the girl, taking a sip of his drink. "Lucy," she replied, offering him a hand. "Lucy Hastings." He kissed her hand gently. "Beautiful." Lucy giggled. _Wait until I tell Eleanor about this, _she thought.

"So what brings you to Club Wah?" he asked her conversationally. She giggled, "You, of course. And that Ringo Starr character. I love you both, really."

Paul smiled. "Even Ringo? I'm glad someone does. It's tough to love the old boy." Lucy giggled again. She just cound't believe that she was here, with Paul McCartney. **The **Paul McCartney.

The two continued their conversation, which varied all the way from different bands in rock n' roll to Twiggy and various other models. Over the course of their talk, Lucy began to worry more and more about Eleanor. She usually would have found Lucy by now and taken her home before she did something stupid in her usual drunken state. But it was almost 1 in the morning and she hadn't seen a sign of her since they arrived her.

"Listen," Lucy said to Paul, "as much as it pains me to say this, I've got to go and find my friend." Paul sighed.

"It's been a joy to talk to you, Lucy my dear. May I get your number so I could possibly call you later on?" he asked. She took a pen out from her purse, wrote her number on a nearby napkin, and thanked Paul for the nice chat. And with that, she began her search for Eleanor.

* * *

><p><strong>Well, it's been many of weeks, and I've finally finished the prologue for this story. It wasn't very hard to write, but I felt I needed to get it absolutely perfect before I uploaded it, and this is the best I got. And as you can see, I stuck with Eleanor for this story, because she is my absolute favorite character. I made a few modifications to her appearance, but for the most part she's the same. <strong>

**I hope you liked the story as much as I liked writing it. Please review, because it'd mean a lot to me if you'd critique it. So yeah. Thanks for reading!**

**-Mo**


	2. Chapter 1

Eleanor's eyes slowly opened as she pushed herself up from the bed. Once she was up, she took in her surroundings. Unfamiliar bed. Unfamiliar dressers and drawers. Unfamiliar _everything. _She looked down. She was completely naked.

Confused, she wrapped herself up in the sheets and stood up. She gathered her dress and her shoes and made her way to the bathroom. She felt too incredibly disgusting to not take a shower.

How could she let herself do this? Her slut days were long gone, so what could possibly tempt her to sleep with a random guy? Not to mention that this guy seemed quite shady, even in her drunken haze. Not as if she hadn't slept with her fair share of shady guys, but he seemed different than the others. Like he was a nice guy caught in a suspicious act. And that worried her more than it should have.

Eleanor placed her clothes on the porcelain counter and started to draw her bath.

Who was this man, anyway? What if he turned out to be really great, and they actually took this further? Or maybe he was brutal and cruel, and would keep her here forever for sex and money. The latter was improbable, but nonetheless a possibility.

After her quick, ten minute bath, she wrapped her hair and changed into her clothes. She breathed deeply. Time to see who the man was she slept with.

Cracking open the door, Eleanor saw 4 men sitting around the table, eating eggs and bacon. What is this, the mafia?

Slowly, Eleanor made her first steps into the dining area, which was right next to the room she slept in last night. The four men turned and stared at her. Eleanor stopped in front of them.

"Alright... who was the one I slept with last night?"

One of the men with chestnut brown hair and brown eyes pointed at the man next to him, who had big blue eyes and a large nose. "Ringo was the one you did the dirty with." The man, apparently Ringo, waved and smiled at Eleanor. Hesitantly, Eleanor waved back.

One of the other men, who had dark brown hair and long eyelashes, leaned over to the man next to him. "I'm surprised she hasn't started screaming yet."

"What on Earth are you going on about?" Eleanor asked the man, quite obviously confused. "Why would I be screaming?"

The man laughed. "Don't you know who we are, dear?" Eleanor shook her head. "You're faces look vaguely familiar, but I don't know."

"My dear, sweet, innocent girl, we're The Beatles, and we're bigger than Jesus," the man who pointed Ringo out stated. They all chuckled a bit, but Eleanor had no idea what could possibly be funny about that.

"Ahh, yes. So you four lads are The Beatles? Just wait until Lucy hears about this. She'll be out of her mind jealous," Eleanor said, smiling at the thought of Lucy being jealous.

Ringo stood up. "Since ye don't seem to know who we are, I'll introduce us. That's John, George, Paul, and I'm Ringo. Pleased to meet you, Miss, um...," he stopped, waiting for her to say her name. She extended a hand. "Eleanor."

"Nice to meet ye, Eleanor," George chimed in for the first time since she walked in. She smiled, still hesitant about the situation.

"How about ye stay for a while? Maybe until lunch or something. Ye seem very nice," Paul offered. Eleanor contemplated this for a moment, but ended up denying the offer. She just had to get back home to Lucy. Poor girl was probably off her rocker worried about her.

The boys all said farewell to Eleanor on her way out. Out of common courtesy, Ringo had decided to drive her home. Eleanor was glad, too, because she honestly had no idea how to get home. And the directions they were giving her weren't the best.

Th weather today was strange, for you could actually see the sun. But it was as cold as it would usually be.

Once they were in the car, Ringo finally actually the question he had been wondering all morning: "So ye really didn't know who we were?"

Eleanor shook her head. "Not in the slightest." Ringo laughed. He was used to people not knowing who he was, but the other's were a different story. Everyone knew and loved them.

"But, you have heard our music, right?" he asked.

Eleanor nodded. "My roommate, Lucy, has an obsession with you lot. Says your music is a God-given gift."

"Do you agree with her?"

"Somewhat," she replied. Ringo smiled. He loved compliments, even if they were small.

"So, who's this roommate of your's favorite Beatle?" Ringo asked, wishing to keep the conversation alive. Eleanor thought for a second. "If I remember correctly, it's that Paul fellow. It might be George, though. I get you all so very confused."

Ringo smiled, looking over to Eleanor, studying her features.

"Wot?" Eleanor asked. Ringo chuckled. "You say what funny."

"I do not!" Eleanor denied, defensively. Her accent was a soft spot of hers. She didn't very well appreciate it when people pointed out the way she said words, either.

"Ok, luv. No need to get worked up."

Eleanor rolled her eyes. She gazed out the window to see her apartment building, the first familiar sight all day. The car slowly rolled to a stop, and Eleanor made her way out of it. She smiled and thanked Ringo for the ride.

"I hope we meet again, Miss Eleanor," Ringo said, smiling.

"So do I, Ringo."

* * *

><p>"Where have you been?" Lucy demanded, stomping her foot down with each word for emphasis.<p>

"I met a guy at the club last night and I slept with him," Eleanor replied simply, throwing her purse down on the couch and sitting next to it. In a swift motion, she threw off her shoes and put her feet on the glass coffee table.

"Disgusting, Ellie. Absolutely disgusting," Lucy spat. "You know how I feel about nasty club men. And I was under the impression you felt the same way."

"I do," Eleanor agreed, "but this man wasn't just any man. He was Ringo Starr of The Beatles." Lucy's jaw dropped. "Not that I even recognized him. Last night I was too drunk to even tell my arse from a hole in the ground."

"Y-you, a-nd Ring-go?" Lucy stuttered. "What a coincident, because last night I met Paul McCartney! Gave him my number and everything."

"Well, top this: I met all four of The Beatles this morning, and they offered to let me stay for lunch, but I declined," Eleanor stated proudly, even if she wasn't that proud of it. They probably only did that to try and get in her pants again.

"You declined? Are you stupid?" Lucy asked, flabbergasted that a girl with a seemingly sane mind would ever decline lunch with The Beatles. But this _was _Eleanor after all, and she wasn't quite as big as a fangirl as Lucy. But still, that's no excuse.

"I didn't want to overstay my welcome."

"Yeah, but we're talking about The Beatles here, not some regular ol' Joes!" Lucy continued her rant, her face turning a faint shade of pink. She tended to get a little too overworked about these sort of things.

"I doesn't matter anymore. The deed is do-," Eleanor was interrupted by the bleeting ring of the telephone. Lucy ran over to it, having every hope in the world that it'd be Paul.

"Hullo?" Lucy answered. The line was silent for a moment.

"Hullo," a Liverpudlian accent replied. It took everything Lucy had for her to not scream. She allowed a giggle to escape her lips. "Hullo, Paul. Nice of you to call," she finally said.

There was an audible chuckle from the phone. "So, how are ye on this fine morning?"

"Fantastic. I'm just around here in the apartment of mine, with my roommate Eleanor. I believe you met her early today, actually."

"Ah, yes, Eleanor. Fine girl she is. Tell her I said hullo," Paul said. There was a whisper, then a clearing of the throat.

"What would you say if I ask ye to dinner later on tonight?" Paul asked. Lucy giggled. "I would agree."

"So, would ye like to come to dinner with me tonight?"

"Of course I would."

"Then it's a date. I'll pick ye up around 7, ok?"

"O-ok," Lucy agreed, hanging up the phone.

Her dream was coming true. She was about to have dinner with a Beatle.

* * *

><p>That night, after Lucy left, Eleanor made herself some tea and sat down on the couch. All of a sudden she felt a pang of loneliness. She was usually never alone. Lucy was always there.<p>

She sighed. This feeling was a recurring one. Every so often, Lucy would be out of the house, socializing and doing whatever she does, and Eleanor would be home. And the she'd realize how alone she really was, not only physically, but mentally.

Sitting her tea down on the coffee table, she rummaged through the many pages of phone numbers that were in a neat stack next to the phone. She knew for a fact that Lucy had written down the number Paul called off of.

Finally finding it, she the dialed the number.

"Hullo? Is this Ringo or George or John or whoever the fuck lives there?"

"I do believe I'm George, but I'll have to check," presumably George said, "John, is my name Ringo or George or John, or is it Whoever The Fuck Lives Here?"

A faint voice answered George.

"Alright this is George. Are ye Eleanor?"

"Yes, George. And I just called because I would like to take you all to the nearest bar so we can get incredibly drunk."

"Sounds splendid."

* * *

><p><strong>And the second chapter is done! I hope you liked it. And fair warning, the next update might be late, so savor this quick update. It's very unusual for me, which you probably know.<strong>

**-Mo**


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